


The Lacivious Thoughts and Pleasures of Gary "Eggsy" Unwin

by bitchyeggsy



Category: Kingsman (Movies), hartwin - Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Hartwin, I think its sweet though, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Short & Sweet, This is actually really short, it takes place in eggsy's p.o.v
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchyeggsy/pseuds/bitchyeggsy
Summary: if i type another fucking semicolon i will throw this laptop across Wales, holy fuckin shit.ALSO:: THIS IS BASED AROUND THOUGHTS AND HAPPINESS, AS WELL AS THIS THING I WROTE IN 11TH YEAR, I MIGHT HAVE THAT AT THE END, MAYBE. I'M PRETTY PROUD OF IT THOUGH.





	The Lacivious Thoughts and Pleasures of Gary "Eggsy" Unwin

**Author's Note:**

> if i type another fucking semicolon i will throw this laptop across Wales, holy fuckin shit.
> 
> ALSO:: THIS IS BASED AROUND THOUGHTS AND HAPPINESS, AS WELL AS THIS THING I WROTE IN 11TH YEAR, I MIGHT HAVE THAT AT THE END, MAYBE. I'M PRETTY PROUD OF IT THOUGH.

_Lascivious * a word used in place of sexual, sensual, voluptuous, etc. LA•SIH•VEE•YUS_

Eggsy sat there, his blue eyes dull, and his blonde hair a mess upon his head. He stared into the middle space, where there was nothing. No room, no agents, no meeting. No Harry, no Merlin, no Roxy. Nothing but his thoughts. Just the lascivious thoughts and pleasures of Gary “Eggsy” Unwin.

_Harry. I love when he looks at me with that obvious glint in his eye. When he tells me to come closer, so he can whisper something; or tell me what to do for him. When his hand brushes against mine, whether it’s intentional or not, my heart skips a beat, and the blood pumps right on to my cock._

_Harry can do so much to me. Kiss me; never too forcefully and never too slow. Touch me; his hands, a poem in a sensation. Hold me; hold me so tight I fear him letting go. Fuck me; fuck me so good I don’t remember my first name._

_When he fucks me, my mindset, it ain’t nowhere on Earth. It’s lost somewhere, and all I can think is: Harry, Harry, Harry. I can’t hear the moans fall from my mouth and dance in his head; but I know they’re there. I hear him; telling me how good I am for him, telling me how much he loves me, how pretty I look. I can feel his hands around my wrists. Holding on so tight I have bruises to last me ‘til next month. Then he marks me up so pretty, proves I’m his and nobody else’s. That I’ll only ever be his. And I feel it, I feel the beauty when he marks me up. ‘Cause I know I’m wearing the mark of Harry Hart._

_And when we’re done, Harry picks me up, and carries me off to the bathroom. He’ll set me on the sink and turn on the shower. He’ll make sure the water’s warm and perfect, then he’ll lift me up again and set me in. He climbs in right behind me and we’re silent for a while. We only listen to the water run for minutes at a time. After a few moments, he will start to wash me. Nothing harsh, nothing painful. It’s all gentle and careful, like his hands; a poem in a sensation. He barely lets it be known that he’s there, he does not talk until we’re out of the shower; when I’m dry and dressed, laying in his arms._

_When I lay in his arms, he’ll stroke my hair and tell me how good I am for him. How well I did for him, how pretty I look, marked up like this. He tells me he never wants to let go of this moment, even though there’ll be many others to come; there’ll never be one identical to that one. Then he tells me he loves me, he’s happy I’m his. He kisses me on my forehead and says goodnight. I don’t say nothing back, because I know he knows. He knows I love him more than my tired body can manage to say. He knows he’s my Sun, my moon, my whole galaxy. He knows my barely there_ goodnight _holds my thank you, my love and my everything I owe to Harry Hart._

 

**_\+ g r a s s y h a r t w i n +_ **

**Author's Note:**

> [My mother]. I love her more than anyone or anything on God’s green earth. She understands me better than I do. She loves me, and I love her. When I can’t sleep, I go to her because I know she knows what to do. She holds me, and sings to me. She sings in her beautiful voice whatever I ask of her. I always pick Angel of Mine by Monica. I pick that song because it’s our song. Whenever we go anywhere, that’s the first song picked. The first song, because she is my angel, and I am hers.
> 
> When my angel can’t sleep, she comes to me because she knows I know what to do. I hold her, and I sing. I sing whatever she asks of me. She always picks Angel of Mine by Monica. She picks that song because it’s ours. Every day, that song is heard in our flat at least once. Every day because I am her angel, and she is mine.


End file.
